Pearl frowns, her hold on me tightens, and I squeeze my fists, fighting for breath, my lungs almost shrinking inside me, and finally she lets go, stepping back while I gulp for air only to groan as agony zips through me, reminding me of their abuse.
It’s a wonder none of them broke anything, although by the blood sliding over my face, I can’t be one hundred percent sure about that. The human body is very smart; during stress, we can group inside and face difficulties, not acknowledging the pain that has the ability to kill us.
All we think about is survival and focus all our strength there, but once it’s over… that’s when the body truly understands the full scope of the damage done to it.
I drop back on the floor, coughing. Blood spills from my mouth, indicating I might have internal bleeding. I place my hand on my stomach, rubbing it lightly and praying for a miracle to show up here and save me.
“We want to have fun too.” The two women from the back speak up before one of them stabs a knife in my shoulder blade, making me arch my back and scream, but then I fall on my front when one of them kicks me hard.
I quickly roll to the side while they continue to kick me over and over again, but I make myself into a ball, not caring what they do to other parts of my body.
The ringing in my ears starts and my sight becomes blurry. I’m barely staying afloat, probably from all the bleeding, and want to sleep so badly, but I know I can’t do that.
Under no circumstance can I succumb to the calling within me that says to let go and allow this cruel fate to win.
I will protect you. I will always protect you.
Veronica shrieks and orders, “Someone is coming. Quick, let’s go.” The kicking stops, and one of them leans down, pulls the knife out, and I feel how my warm blood slides over my back, opening the wound. By the pain and location, I doubt she touched an important blood vessel, but at this point, any wound can be catastrophic for me.
Their boots thump heavily on the floor that vibrates underneath me, and in the next second, I hear the click of the door. All I can do is lie here and rub my stomach, struggling for every breath.
My eyes open and close, my view becoming blurrier and blurrier with each blink, but then I hear the door click again. A shocked voice mutters, “Dear God.” And the person runs toward me, dropping on her knees, and looms above me. Through my hazy vision, I recognize Lori. “What have they done to you, girlie?” she asks, then shouts without waiting for my reply, “Dena! Call the guards; scream for help. She’s bleeding.”
I manage to catch her hand, using all my strength to squeeze it, even though I feel how my body slowly sinks into the oblivion that calls my name louder and louder. “Please,” I beg, and she shushes me.
“Don’t say anything, girl. Help is on the way. Hold on.”
Even though I’m grateful for what she is doing, I need her to listen to me. “My pants are wet,” I inform her, and her brows furrow while she glances between my legs.
She pats my hands a little, very gently as if she is afraid to bring me more pain. “It’s okay. Happens to everyone. They will pay for it.” An odd tone coats her voice. “That bitch couldn’t resist the price. I should have expected she’d be stupid enough to do it.”
Too far gone to care about the implications of her words, I squeeze her hand again and whisper, “I’m six months pregnant. And my water just broke. Please help me save my baby.” Finally voicing my condition for the first time to anyone, since no one listened to whatever I had to say before, I allow the darkness to claim me, lullabying me to sleep with the eternal promise of surrender in exchange for peace.
For a moment in time.
My eyelids flutter open. I see a bright light above me and close them again, wincing. I’m breathing into a mask as various machines beep around me, the smell of antiseptic twitching my nose.
A nurse is standing next to me, writing something on the tablet in her hands, but then gasps when her gaze lands on me. “You’re awake.” She presses the button above my head while I try to whisper through my dry throat that desperately begs for liquid.
“Water.” The air sticks in my lungs when even the slightest of movements sends hurt through me, reminding me of all the things that happened to me in that room.
A whimper slips past my lips.
“Shh,” the nurse says and presses the straw to my lips, allowing me to sip it a little, although it still brings pain. “Don’t talk, sweetheart. They broke your jaw and nose. Thankfully, our kickass doctor managed to put it all back together. It’s healing nicely. You shouldn’t have any lasting damage from that.” Her fingers skim my bandaged face. “Although I’m not sure about the wound. It’s really deep. But doctor said it should go away with time.” She then elaborates more. “You’ve been out for almost a week in a medically induced coma. We were afraid of the swelling in your brain, but thankfully it’s all okay now.”
I’ve been out for so long?
Before I can ask her about my baby, I hear heavy footsteps and then a doctor, judging by his scrubs, hovers over me, smiling at me, even though it doesn’t reach his eyes.
My heart stills, because I’m a doctor—or I was.
I know what it means.
“My baby,” I whisper, not waiting for him to speak, because I know what he will say. Or rather prolong the inevitable.
And even though I know what kind of words will spill from his lips, I still allow hope to flutter inside me, gripping the feeling so hard, because that’s the only thing steadying me in the present.
“How about we start with—”
I interrupt him, “My baby.”
Regret crosses his face before he shares a look with the nurse and finally mutters, each word stabbing me with an invisible knife that goes deeper and deeper into me. “The baby was premature. We tried to save your baby girl, but she was too weak. I’m sorry, Phoenix. She is dead.”
“No,” I whisper and then try to get up, which only sends more pain, but I don’t give a shit about that.
What’s pain compared to the breaking of my heart into tiny little pieces while my precious girl, my baby, the baby I wanted for so long, my only ray of sunshine in this world, is dead?
The nurse pushes on my shoulders as the doctor shouts, “We have to sedate her!” But I don’t care, and pull at my arms, only to find them restrained.
Weeping into my pillow, I shake my head from side to side, trying to free my hands from the leather cuffs keeping me bound to the bed. I want to get away from this hospital, the place that destroyed my baby girl.
Straight-up killed her with no remorse!
The pain suffocates me so much I can’t get any air in my lungs or cry out to God for this injustice, for turning His back on me when He knew I didn’t do what everyone accused me of doing.
In all this cruelness heaven dished out on me, why couldn’t He keep my baby girl safe? Why did He have to take her away too?
In all this agony, another face pops into my head along with his hollow green eyes piercing through my soul with each glance that promises me retribution for my actions.
I will become your worst nightmare. You will bleed and cry… but even then, it won’t be enough for me.
Zachary King.
A man who I will hate till my last breath.